Ordinators
by Syrus Marshall
Summary: When a group of officials from Morrowind arrive in the Imperial City to conduct a joint investigation with the Guard, it is clear that something is amiss. But with both factions at each others throats, the investigation becomes the last of their worries.


**Chapter 1**

Mist shrouded the Waterfront, moonlight eerily reflecting in the wispy fronds so that it seemed a parade of ghosts drifted along the gently lapping shore. It was bitterly cold as well, Sulla huffed, stamping his feet in the slushy ice in an attempt to shock some feeling into his numb toes. The troop of guardsmen stood at attention, trails of the thick mist clinging to their forms. Not a man amongst them said a word, but Sulla could tell by their expressions that they were feeling the chill bitingly as well. Even so the guard waited, gazing ever onwards onto the Niben Bay.

The Waterfront was oddly quiet, Sulla would have expected the sounds of the lower class plying their wares, the crackle of fires and the barks of dogs, but none of the usual noises were to be heard that night, only the gentle break of the waves and the steady creak of the woodwork. He ran a gnarled hand through his mutton-chops, as he always did when he was nervous, maybe the cold had driven the populace inside, he certainly wouldn't be out in this bloody weather if it weren't for his specific orders. This year it seemed the Divines were taking the name 'Frostfall' particularly literally.

The minutes stretched to hours and still the Guardsmen stood there, motionless, silent. They weren't under any orders to hold their tongues, but none of them seemed to feel very comfortable, or indeed were comfortable with their feelings and Sulla didn't blame them, there was something on the air, anticipation, and something more. After all this was hardly an ordinary greeting party and the charges they awaited certainly weren't ordinary guests. But still the hours dragged on and no one came, the passage of time marked only by the lazy path Masser and Secunda wrought through the night sky and even these were barely visible through the fog. Sulla was beginning to worry his men would get frostbitten, or worse that he would, but there was nothing to be done. Orders were orders after all.

It wasn't until Dibella began to tint the Eastern sky with the red rays of her radiance that someone broke the silence.

"There it is Sergeant, a ship is out in the bay!"

"About bloody time!" Sulla bellowed back to the scout. "Report to a Captain, on the double! The Emperor must be warned."

"Right away Sah!" The scout called back, before double-timing it towards the Imperial City proper.

_And at lasts the wait ends._ Sulla couldn't see why they'd had to stand watch all bloody night though. The mist had lifted slightly in the morning glow, but still concealed the approaching vessel until it was nearly upon them. A murmur ran through the ranks as the ship broke the fogbank. Sulla could understand why, it was like no ship he had ever seen. At first he thought it was made of some twisting, magic warped wood, but as he drew close he saw it wasn't wood at all. _Bone_? No, but similar, then it hit him. _Chitin_, the ship was a giant overturned shell, like a hollowed out mudcrab… only giant, colossal even. He found himself strangely thankful it was just a shell and not the living thing, that crab would be a fearsome creature to fight.

A pair of Redguard dockworkers scurried about to catch the hawsers as they were slung down from the chitinous carapace, practised hands working quickly to secure the moorings. But the skill of their hands didn't match the surprise on their faces, they'd clearly never seen a ship like this either. Slowly a gangplank began to descend, unseen crew-members lowering the long stretch of wood. The act seemed rather dull in comparison to the ship, Sulla had half expected some dramatic exit, but at least they were going to finally meet their _esteemed_ visitors.

The icy snow piled high around the edges of the Temple district, the dirty slush having been cleared from the main pathways the previous day. There were few people on the streets that evening, but those who were seldom noticed the dishevelled pile of rags slumped amongst the mounds of ice. Inside those rags was Deshavi and that night, it seemed death was upon her.

"A coin for a beggar?" She asked hopefully as a tall Altmer walked by.

Her voice was a thin rasp through chattering, crooked teeth, but she was sure the man had heard her. Nevertheless she was ignored, the Altmer walked on by, holding his head high as he did so. Deshavi receded back into her own, invisible world, and what a miserable place it was. Her rags were soaked through, not that the thin burlap offered any protection against the cold anyway, only now it clung to her form, the icy dampness biting her skin. She had never felt so cold before, it was in her bones, in her blood, each beat of her heart sent burning icicles racing around her body, but even that seemed to be slowing.

She was probably going to die she realised, unnoticed and unwanted, amongst the dirty snow where apparently people couldn't even see her. She glanced across the way to the great, domed Temple of the One, but knew the doors remained barred to the likes of her. She could go back to Edgewin, he was a member of the Thieves Guild, her employer of sorts, he could provide a roof for the night if she made the right offer. But Edgewin was a high maintenance resource and Deshavi couldn't face that, not tonight, not after all these years of being treated like an animal, or worse, like nothing at all. She curled up tighter, perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad thing, to die.

"Is someone there?"

Hours had passed and a bloody dawn was beginning to stain the sky. Deshavi was barely conscious when the voice called out, but the sound snatched her attention.

"Is that…? Is someone down there?"

The voice called out again, it was strange, thickly accented, emphasising the wrong syllables. Sort of like how some of the Nords in the Thieves' Guild sounded, only much more, exotic. _Silly Girl_, the voice wasn't interested in her, it was calling out to someone else, one of the 'Real Folk' as she knew them. _Just get back to dying._ But as close as she was to collapsing, she couldn't, for she suddenly felt a huge presence bearing over her.

"Now what are you doing down there?"

She looked up at the towering figure. He rose above her some seven feet, the brown robes of a monk draped over his frame, although on closer inspection it seemed as though it were a pair of monk robes that had been crudely cut and stitched together. That wasn't surprising considering the size of the man.

"I live here." She grunted, the cold threatening to snatch her words away. Even in her exhausted, frozen state, she couldn't help but be bemused by the crown of ginger hair that ringed the man's thick head.

"What, in an igloo?" The man laughed, his accent as odd as ever. Deshavi had no idea what an igloo was.

"No, on the street."

"Well you can't live here, it's far too cold at this time of year." Deshavi wasn't sure if it were genuine confusion or mere mockery in the man's voice. She tried to spit a retort, but her teeth were chattering too violently to let her. The man continued. "There's a Temple not twenty yards from here, why the blazes aren't you in there?"

"We're not…" Deshavi trailed off, talking was becoming a chore.

"What?"

"We're not welcome… in the Temple. We scare off the rich folk… and it's them that leave the donations." She managed, each breath sending fiery gust of cold air into her lungs.

"You what! By the Daedra who told you that?"

"The Primate." She wheezed. "Tandilwe."

"Bugger my brazier." The man exclaimed oddly. "This simply won't do, get up lass, we're going to the temple."

"They won't let me in."

"By the Divines they'd better, I'm a sanctified Priest of Dibella and there'll be Oblivion to pay if they bar my entry."

With a huge hand he reached down and pulled Deshavi to her feet, as easily as though the small Bosmer were made of straw. Then without a glance back he stormed off towards the temple, Deshavi tried her best to keep up but after a few shaky steps a sickening realisation hit her, she couldn't feel her feet, or her legs at all. She began to panic as she stumbled forward and then, without warning, her foot caught on a raised cobble and she was on the floor again.

The towering Monk turned back at the sound, cursing in his odd way when he saw Deshavi sprawled across the stone pavement. Crossing pack to her, he scooped her up in his massive arms, like how a child might caress a doll and without another word was storming back towards the temple. Deshavi barely had her eyes open as he kicked the heavy, oaken doors open with one blow of a sandaled foot.

"Right!" He roared, stepping into the threshold. Which one of you God-Botherers is Tandilwe?"

All eleven heads snapped up at the crashing sound. Without warning the doors to the chamber had burst open and now a tall man stood panting in the doorframe. Silence gripped the room after the sudden intrusion, although Martellus could see barely concealed anger on many of the faces. These were the most powerful men in Tamriel and did not like being interrupted.

"Hieronymus…" Emperor Uriel ventured after the silence had dragged on long enough. "Something to report?" Hieronymus Lex dramatically dropped to one knee at the sound of the Emperor's voice.

"They're here my Lord. They've finally arrived." He was still panting heavily from his sprint over here.

A murmur ran through the council, some seemed to think this hardly warranted the distraction, others seemed intrigued and were chatting excitedly but a few, Martellus amongst them, didn't have a clue what was going on.

"The arrival of my cousins is hardly worthy of such an impertinent intrusion." A Dunmer finally said, his crisp and calculating tones drawing a few nods from the councillors.

"Well hang on." Archmage Traven cut in, the look of confusion sitting oddly on his wizened face. "Just who has arrived, what is this all about?" A fresh wave of murmuring engulfed the council and it took the Emperor himself to silence it.

"Councillors," he began, rising from his seat. "Captain Hieronymus has intruded due to my specific orders. I wish to be informed as soon as our guests from Vvardenfell arrived so that I might properly greet them and insure an understanding was reached between the arrivals and the Guardsmen of the City."

"But who are these arrivals?" Protested Traven, the schooled mage was clearly unaccustomed with being left in the dark.

"The arrivals are a troop of investigators from the most esteemed order of Ordinators. This visit is unprecedented, history in the making, this is the first time the order has visited Cyrodil, indeed, as I understand, they rarely leave Vivec city. So I intend _everything_" He put undue emphasis on the word. "to go smoothly."

"But why are they here?" A voice asked.

"Because… It has come to our attention that Daedra worship is on the rise, especially in this city. The Ordinators claim that they have reason to believe a certain Daedra worshipper or even group of worshippers poses a threat, not only to the City, but to the whole of Tamriel. They are here, gentleman, to conduct a joint investigation with the City Watch and the Blades in order to root out this problem before it can manifest itself." He paused, letting the information sink in. "And with that I formally close this Council session, you are dismissed."

Martellus watched from his seat as the Emperor quickly rose and exited the room, Hieronymus Lex in tow like some sort of trained lapdog. And suddenly he felt incredibly sick.

Dinuro brushed the frost from his golden shoulder pads with an idle hand. The voyage hadn't been kind to him, he had never liked the sea, but as the gangplank thudded down onto the jetty below those bad memories started to fade. Anticipation was what he felt now, perhaps even speckled with excitement. His comrades joked that he was nearly too thin to keep his armour on and Dinuro had to grudgingly agree with them, he'd lost a lot of weight during the months of chronic seasickness, but that was over now, before him awaited a new city and a new land and he wanted to see it with his own eyes. Sure he had seen the outline of the Imperial City hours before they reached it, but the macro view was very different to the micro one. Vivec was stunning from a distance, but it wasn't under you were nose down in the dirt that you started to see the truth, the scum below.

None of them had left Morrowind before, at least until this voyage and the short stop the High Ordinator had ordered on the coast of the Black Marsh had hardly yielded interesting views. Dinuro still didn't know why they had stopped at Black Marsh, or why they had travelled by boat at all, but his superiors had insisted it was vital to the mission and Dinuro wasn't about to question their decision.

With a barked order the Ordinators began to exit the ship, the thump thump thump of golden boots on hard wood soon finding an organised rhythm. Dinuro couldn't help but grin widely when he felt solid land beneath his feet again, not that anyone else would have noticed, his mask, like those of his brothers, hid him completely from the outside world. The Ordinators assembled in good order and soon the party of Dunmer stood face to face with the party of Imperials.

"How drab is there armour?" Dinuro muttered rhetorically, quiet enough so that only those either side of him could here.

They were drab, very drab, dull grey iron crudely bent into effective, but artless plates. Some soldiers even sported rust around their joints. They were nothing like the vibrant and ornate suits of gold and blue the Ordinators paraded. How were the Imperial Guardsman supposed to instil fear and obedience into the masses if they looked like part of the common rabble? Already Dinuro found his expectations lowered. He hoped this trip wouldn't prove too much of a disappointment.

The Sergeant of the Guard marched forward to meet with the High Ordinator and exchange greetings. They shook hands cordially enough, but Dinuro could sense an annoyance in his superior at having to deal with such a low ranking ally. Several words were said and soon the High Ordinator was returning to the ranks.

"Listen up." He got their attention, although it was hardly needed. "You are to follow the welcoming party to the North West Watchtower, there you will be fed and have bunks assigned. There is to be no trouble between you and the guard or indeed with any of the local scum. The investigation isn't to start till the morrow, so make sure you're fed, rested and ready for work. And remember, I'll be watching you. Dismissed."

"I doubt these Imperials even know how to conduct an investigation." Dinuro muttered with a chuckle.

"The investigation will be the least of their worries." A voice replied, but as much as Dinuro looked around, he couldn't tell who had spoken.


End file.
